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The Ostrich

Discussion in 'Poetry' started by ojaantrik, Jul 14, 2014.

  1. ojaantrik

    ojaantrik IL Hall of Fame

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    First Version: July 5, 2014. Present Revision: July 14, 2014



    Can’t you hear my words of counsel pray?
    Why in vain then burrowed lies your head?
    Where shall you hide? How vast the desert’s sway -
    Footfall squeezed, all shady nooks lie dead.
    E’en a mirage today the horizon won’t display
    Ruthless, silent, blue the sky will loom
    To delude the hunter, seems there to be no way
    He’s got to snare you, else he spells his doom.
    Where’ll you flee? Run you’ll how much more?
    The sands uncaring won’t your claw-marks veil
    Childhood friends, those associates of yore
    Bygone all, helpless, alone your trail.

    What will you reap, why nurture a cracked egg-shell?
    Even penitence will not help to make it whole.
    Won’t boundless cravings self-destruction spell?
    In a wish free void too you can’t hope to stroll.
    Best that to my reasoning you pay heed
    Sail your fancied ship in a sea of sand
    News of oases you know well indeed
    Cautious wisdom never was your brand.
    A fresh new home then let us go and build
    In any odd retreat, thorny bush enclosed
    Salty water, at least, it will yield
    Dates will fall too, gravity’s pull unopposed.

    Behind a fence of mythical creepers there
    We shan’t build a zoo with iron grills
    Nor call up hosts of buyers to the fair
    To prune your wings of all their needless frills.
    With surplus feathers lying scattered on the ground
    Fans for a hermit’s fret-free needs we’ll weave
    The dusty trail of a star extinction bound
    We won’t hunt on a dark and moonless eve.
    In your undying praise no rattle’s to be heard
    Mindless greed with thoughts will never combine
    Lullaby songs of a harvest stealing bird
    Won’t link you with the crash of twenty nine.

    The wounds of damage must, of course, be borne
    By us alone, I know, in equal share
    The early ones have booked their gains and gone
    It’s left for us all remaining debts to clear.
    Disgusting is this game of self-amour!
    Can blindness ever keep devastations on wait?
    Avoiding me will swell your woes for sure
    Self-deception suits not a dire strait.
    Let’s get together and sign this treaty then
    Helping each our opposite goals to reach
    You can guide me beyond the mortal plane
    And I my friend will find you a worldly niche.

    ______________________________
    This is a translation/transcreation of a classic Bengali poem “utpakhi” (উটপাখী) into English. The poet was Sudhindranath Datta. He published it in a collection called “krandasi” (ক্রন্দসী) in the Bengali year 1344, which could have been 1937 approximately according to the Western calendar. The exact date of writing this particular poem is not clear at this point of time. It was my good friend Dianne Shiff Thaler who taught me the correct American pronunciation of the last word I used in my work. That was more than 40 years ago. However, it is never too late to thank a friend.
     
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  2. SeethaHari

    SeethaHari New IL'ite

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    Liked the poem very much especially the last stanza: The wounds of damage must of course be borne by us alone.......
    Needed lot of time to understand the intricate meaning in the poem and its relatedness to the current era. Best wishes
     
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  3. ojaantrik

    ojaantrik IL Hall of Fame

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    Thank you SeethaHari.
     

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